Mormor Oneshots (collab with 221b tribute)
by bluecascade
Summary: A collection of Mormor oneshots written with the great 221b . tribute. Angst, fluff, whatever.
1. Dark Alleys

**A/N: Hi! This is going to be mormor oneshots, written with the great . You should check her out! I write Sebastian, and she writes Jim. Sebastian is regular font and Jim is italicized. **

Stupid fuckers caught me. Usually I'm faster than them, but not this time. By the rancid stench, I can tell I'm in an alley. Gravel bites into my wound, and I grimace in pain. To make matters worse, it's rained recently, and the ground is damp. The metallic scent of blood nearly overwhelms the scent of garbage, but not quite. I'm quickly losing blood and consciousness but I send a quick text to Jim. One word, "Help."

_Sebby was supposed to be home an hour ago. I stare at the information flashing across my computer screen, unable to focus. I'm bored. I should throw it out the window. But then I'd have to wait a whole hour to get a new one. I shut it instead and close my eyes, vaguely aware that I should be tired, but unable to shut my brain off. My phone buzzes in my lap. I want to ignore it. It's probably some idiot I can kill off anyway. But I check it anyway, because maybe, just maybe, it will be Sebby and he'll have news. Sure enough, it's his name that shows up, along with a single word: "Help." I type a quick text back, suddenly alert: "Give me location. On my way. - JM"_

Just as I feel myself slipping into darkness, my phone beeps and startles me back into reality. I internally berate myself for letting myself almost fall unconscious. My years in the military should have taught me to not do that. It's Jim, asking me where I am. I would usually be happy at his sentiment, but I am in too much pain for that. I raise my head to type a reply and grunt with the effort. _Wilmington street, in an alley. _I would give more specifications, but because my side is bleeding heavily, I can't stop applying pressure for long. I attempt to rip some fabric from my shirt to cover the wound, but to no avail, so I just take my shirt off and press it to the bullet hole. Luckily, I can tell the bullet missed vital organs. Now if I could just stay awake until Jim comes...

_By the time my phone buzzes with his reply, I'm already out the door. I've left the apartment unlocked, but that's not important. If worst comes to worst I can always blow it up remotely to make sure nobody can get inside. I rush to the car, put the key in the ignition, and start driving. My seatbelt is the least of my concerns. Sebby always said I'm too reckless a driver, which is why he's in charge of transportation if I haven't hired anyone. I send Sebastian another text: _Which alley? - JM. _I'm not far from Wilmington Street, even with the traffic. I can't exactly disobey the law here as blatantly as I do everywhere else. The sheep-like police officers who would arrest me are too stupid to fear me. My eyes are only half on the road, because I'm checking all the alleys along the street for any signs of life. Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of a figure slumped against the wall of one. I spin the car around, open the door, and get out, leaving the car in the middle of the street. I only pause to send one more text: _I think I see you. Confirm? - JM

My phone beeps again. I'm so weak, almost too weak to text back. _Oh, get a grip, Moran, _I chide myself as I type back _Yes. _I hear a car door slam and clicking footsteps (Jim always wears these ridiculous heel boots.) As they get nearer, I find it easier to keep myself strong. I turn to look and I see a glimpse of Moriarty, but not before a piercing pain shoots through my side. I lay back down and focus on breathing. In, out, inhale, exhale. Before I know it, Jim is looming over me, the scent of expensive cologne filling my nostrils.

"_Moran," I say, my voice coming out more sharply than I intended. "What the hell happened?" He lies slumped against the wall of the alley, one limp and bloody hand loosely curled around his gun. A wound in his side is bleeding heavily, and I can see the blood loss is starting to take effect. His usually bright blue eyes are drained, and take a moment to focus on my face. "Answer me," I order. _

"What? Look, I'm...sorry. They...caught me." Every word takes superhuman effort and when I finish speaking I begin to hack and wheeze. Moriarty's expression flashes concern before hardening again.

"Shh…Can you stand?" I nod meekly and grip onto his arm as I drag myself up. I lean heavily into Jim as we walk to a waiting car. Not an ambulance because...well...since we're criminals, we can't exactly go to normal hospitals. Too much risk of being found out. As soon as we are in the car, Jim grumbles something about me getting blood on his "precious Westwood." I roll my eyes, even in my weakened state.

"_Who caught you?" I ask, beginning to drive, but again barely watching the road. "The target?"_

_Sebastian nods, even more weakly than before. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to hide the fact that I feel like my heart is being torn out of my chest._

"_Careful," Sebastian mutters, barely audible. "Don't… crash." I open my eyes again, angry at myself for losing concentration. If there's one thing we don't need, it's for him to get more injured. _

"_Sorry," I say quickly, sparing a quick glance over at the man next to me. His eyes are half-closed now._

"_Don't you dare pass out," I say. "Don't you dare die on me, Tiger."_

"_Trying," he coughs out. "Talk." I feel awful for making him speak when I see the way the color drains from his face. But I know he needs me to keep him conscious, so I try to do as he says._

"_Okay. I will. Just don't talk, Sebby," I murmur. "Just you wait until you're healed. I'm going to find the man that hurt you and skin him alive, and you're going to watch. Maybe you can help if you're good. Finish him off when he's screaming for mercy." I falter, thinking about the fact that I'm assuming Sebastian will survive this, and my calculations tell me I can't be 100% sure. His eyes are pleading, however, so I continue._

"_I met with a new client today, Sebby. She was so stupid. She wanted me to kill her daughter's pet dog, because it was irritating her, but didn't have the guts to do it herself. So sentimental. I'm not in it for that, I'm in it because sometimes it's interesting…"_

_I keep talking until I pull up to our apartment building. Sebastian is weaker than ever, but still awake. I get out of the car and go around to his side, offering my hands to him._

"_Can you get up?"_

I nod as I gratefully as I take Jim's hands. I still lean heavily into him, but this time he doesn't sigh. He gently guides me up the stairs, and I wince on each step, needing to pause to breathe. After what feels like an eternity, we reach the flat. I drop like a stone onto our couch. In my injury-induced stupor, I don't even notice the doctor (Jim has connections) stitching me up. I _do _notice when the morphine starts to course through my system. The pain is almost instantaneously relieved, and I soon fall into a much-needed sleep. Just before I drift off, I feel a light arm wrap around me.


	2. Don't Poke the Tiger

**A/N: Hi again! This is pure fluff, lol. Written with 221b tribute. Seb is regular font, Jim is italics.**

_I stare down at Sebastian, in a deep sleep with his head slumped on the coffee table. I suppose this is my fault, since I sent him out so late last night. But I'm bored, and I need him to entertain me. I like this flat anyway. I'd rather not burn it down just yet._

"_Sebby," I say quietly, poking him on the arm. He doesn't stir._

"_Sebby," I repeat, even louder. This time he twitches slightly and I grin before poking him hard in the ribs. _

I was _peacefully _enjoying some fucking sleep for once until I feel a sharp jab in my ribs. "Whatdefuck did you that for?" I ask sleepily, turning to face my boss, who is wearing a maniacal grin.

"I was bored."  
>"Seriously? Can I ever get any fucking sleep around here? Fuck you." I flip Jim off and begin to saunter away.<p>

"_Well, only if you want to, Tiger," I reply, giggling. He turns around; he can't help it. But all I get is an annoyed glare._

"_If you wanted me awake you shouldn't have sent me out 'till fucking three in the morning for that guy you weren't even sure you wanted to kill."_

"_Yes, but I was so bored," I insist, making Sebby roll his eyes._

"_Come on, Sebby, don't be boring," I beg, making myself look as sweet as possible. I know he won't be able to remain annoyed for too much longer. He's too impatient. _

Stupid fucking Jim and his stupid fucking kitten eyes. They're not puppy eyes, they're not _that _innocent. "Stop giving me those eyes, Kitten." I purr.

"Couldn't stay mad for long, could you, Tiger? I roll my eyes again but I still walk over to him.

"How can I not be boring?" Jim thinks for a moment, and then gets an evil glare in his eyes. This can't be good…  
>"Well...you could put that tiger suit on."<p>

_Sebastian narrows his eyes. I can see him trying desperately to hold onto whatever shred of dignity I may have let him hang onto since I hired him._

"_No, boss," he says. "No fucking way." Alright then, Tiger. If you don't want to play…_

"_Alright," I say innocently. "You can be boring. But, you know, if _Sherlock _were here…" That does it. Sebby tenses, and I can practically see the cogs of his ordinary little mind turning as he decides to admit defeat._

"_Fine," he finally mutters through gritted teeth, but I'm enjoying myself far too much.  
><em>"_What was that?"_

"_I said fine, boss. I'll put the fucking tiger suit on. Are you happy now?"_

"_Yes, Sebby," I grin. "Very." _

This is it. My last shred of dignity is gone. I sulk off and enter our bedroom. I enter the expansive walk-in closet (Moriarty's idea, not mine.) (Him with all his fancy suits and the _endless _arrays of shoes.) Anyway, as I'm searching for the blasted tiger suit, something catches my eye. It's also furry, but black. A cat suit, in Jim's size. It's so...cute, with little white-tipped ears and paws. I pull it out and find the tiger suit underneath it. I grin and walk out of the bedroom, catsuits in hand, an idea already forming in my mind. "Why haven't you put the tiger suit on, Sebby?" Jim's eyes flash with annoyance.

"I found something..." I pause as I pull the kitten suit out with a flamboyant gesture. "...I'll only wear the tiger suit if you wear this." His mouth twists into a half grimace, half smirk.

"Now where did you find that, Sebby?"

"In our closet, you dumbfuck. Where else would I find it?"

"_Why would a cat suit be in our closet?" I ask, trying to maintain an air of superiority._

"_Dunno, boss." His tone is casual, but I'm hardly fooled. "Your guess is as good as mine." Now it's Sebastian's turn to look triumphant. I roll my eyes at him, knowing he has me beaten but not wanting to admit it._

"_I'm going to have you shot one day, Moran," I mutter. Sebastian just smiles._

"_No you won't."_

"_What if I did?" I insist, reclining lazily on the couch._

"_Who'd kill me, boss? I'm not going to shoot myself," he replies. "Now, are you going to put it on, or am I going to go to bed and lock the bedroom door?" I fume for a few seconds. I could just let him go back to bed, but then I'd be as bored as ever. Plus, the thought of him curled up next to me in that tiger suit is just irresistible. Orange really is his color._

"_Fiiiiiiiine, Sebby," I say at last. "If you insist. Now hurry up and change before I make you." _

I roll my eyes at my boss as I strip and pull on the tiger suit. He turns away, but before I can catch him checking me out. "Seriously, Jim?"

"What?" He asks innocently.

"Whatever. I've put on the tiger suit. Now it's your turn." He sighs as he goes behind the couch to change. When he comes out, I can't help but smile. He looks so small and cute.

"What are you smiling at?" His face is pouty, which just makes me smile more.

"You look so…" I cut myself off, because calling Jim cute is probably not a good idea. I would not go unscathed from an encounter like that.

"So what, Sebby?" I dick around for a bit, trying to avoid his question. "What? Sebastian." Oh, I'm in deep shit now.

"So...cute." Before I can blink, Jim has tackled me to the ground.

"_I wasn't kidding, you know," I growl, though I'm having a hard time concentrating given the incredibly small gap between Sebastian's lips and mine. "I could have you killed."_

"_No you won't," he breathes in my ear. He's smiling that smile of his that I usually only see after a particularly interesting job, or when he's with me. He gets so high off the adrenaline. _

"_You forget, Tiger," I say, "that I'm the most dangerous man in Britain."_

"_Really?" he asks. "That can't be true, not when you look so damn _cute_." He's really pushing it now. I wrap my hands lightly around his neck as a warning, but don't squeeze tightly enough to actually cause any harm._

"_You're awfully confident for someone being pinned down," I remark, still feeling rather breathless. Sebastian chuckles. In one swift movement, he has me flipped over on my back, his knees pinning my wrists._

"_I hate you," I whisper, though I'm sure my face must be giving away the fact that I don't mean a word._

"_Oh, come on boss," Sebastian laughs. "You know you love me."_

"_I don't love anyone," I say._

"_Is that so, Kitten? You seem to be enjoying yourself." _

Jim makes a noncommittal grunt. I smirk. I _really _want to close that gap between our lips, although I would probably get slapped or worse. I scan his face, looking for something underneath that stony mask of his.

"Sebby...what are you doing?" I can feel Jim shifting underneath me. I lean harder on his wrists and he halts his fidgeting.

"Just...looking."

"Mhm." He's scanning me, too, with those ochre eyes. And so a silence forms, just our stares and our steady breath.

_We stay there for an immeasurable amount of time, with his blue eyes staring directly into mine, barely blinking. My wrists are starting to ache slightly under his weight, but I don't break the silence for a long time. Eventually, however, when it becomes clear that Sebastian is perfectly intent on staying where he is, I speak._

"_Sebby...you're cutting off the blood to my hands," I whisper. The corner of Sebastian's mouth lifts slightly and he leans back, alleviating most of the pressure._

"_Sorry," he replies softly, his eyes still traveling over my face as if trying to memorize it. He starts to lift a hand to caress my face, but stops before it would make contact. Thank goodness. Sebby is _not _sweet. _

"_Are you just going to sit there?" I ask finally._

"_Depends," he says, smirking. "What do you think?" In answer, I lift my head off the floor, decreasing the gap between us to only a few centimeters. _

"_So eager, Kitten," Sebastian purrs, leaning in closer, almost touching me._

"_Shut up, Tiger," I order. "You know you want to." He shrugs, smiling that little half smile again._

"_If you insist." He leans in to me, at last closing the gap between us. Our lips touch and I smirk into the kiss, bringing my hand up to wrap around his neck, which is still covered in the orange fur of the tiger suit. That makes him pull away for a second, laughing._

"_You really are adorable in this thing," he mutters. I roll my eyes at him, drawing closer once more._

"_Shut up, Sebastian. Shut up and kiss me." _


End file.
